


My Shadow Life

by Spotlessmind027



Series: kierarktina [2]
Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Adult Themes, Canon Divergent, Canon compliant Lord of Shadows, Fertility Issues, Issues of Loss and Mental Health, Multi, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-02-12 13:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21477034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spotlessmind027/pseuds/Spotlessmind027
Summary: Kieran, Mark and Cristina have eked out a little corner of happiness for themselves. However, life as a three between Faerie and the Shadowhunter world remains complicated. New threats and heartbreak challenge their fragile relationship - not least from Kieran's wife, the new Seelie Queen.Sequel to "A Ruthless Heart" which was written after LoS but before QoAaD. Some of QoAaD as well as some of the characters will feature here, however, there are some major divergences. The Riders of Mannan have not been defeated.
Relationships: Drusilla Blackthorn/Ash Morgenstern, Emma Carstairs / Diego Rosales, Helen Blackthorn/Aline Penhallow, Kieran/Cristina Rosales, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Mark Blackthorn/Cristina Rosales, Mark Blackthorn/Kieran, Mark Blackthorn/Kieran/Cristina Rosales, Tiberius Blackthorn/Kit Rook
Series: kierarktina [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548073
Comments: 13
Kudos: 33





	1. Prologue

She looked down at the crumpled figure on the floor. He lay completely still on his back, slightly curled up towards his right side, his eyes closed. He might have been asleep but although they were married, she had never seen him like this before. They had their separate quarters. She would not have wanted it any other way in spite of the fact that he was different to what she had expected. He was mostly kind to her and theirs was a rather successful working partnership if nothing else. It was certainly easier sharing the rule of a kingdom with someone, especially if you had little training and no experience. However, she couldn’t say that she trusted him any more than he trusted her. 

She felt the smooth, beautifully shaped hilt of her long, thin dagger in her hand and wasn’t sure whether she had slipped it out of its thigh sheath when the winged boy appeared or only just now. It felt comfortable in her hand and it would be so easy to put it against his throat and end it all. Rule by herself. Be rid of his Nephilim lovers she resented. She knew she would be capable of it. But then again… She did not have many friends here and she had almost begun to consider him one. 

Those metallic-looking artificial legs were spread out on the floor. She had long wanted to have a closer look at them as she had never seen anything like it before. How could he bear it if they were actually made of metal? The Queen bent down and gingerly touched one of the protheses with her fingertips. It didn’t hurt her and it felt strangely warm, quite unlike the cold metal her father had made her touch as a child. The agony had imprinted itself on her memory; it was what her father had intended, so she would know to avoid it in the future. Her look grazed up over his body. His long, usually darker hair had gone completely white which made him look different, somehow softer. The blemished left side of his face was exposed and she bent forwards to study his ear which was lacking its distinct fey shape. Moreover, it appeared somewhat sullied although, on closer inspection, it was all the little blood vessels that were blackened and spidered out towards his eye and cheek. His left hand had a similar appearance although the blackening of the veins was less pronounced and the spidery lines made his skin look more like cracked porcelain than anything else. His shirt had ripped in the fight with the angel boy and exposed part of his shoulder. Rather than touch him, she used the knife to pull the shirt further down because she was curious to see how far those black veins spread up his arm.


	2. So it begins

“You tamed a rat!” Mark was fascinated. The animal was looking at him suspiciously but held still in his grip before he let it jump back onto his brother’s shoulder where it turned around and looked at him almost triumphantly. Or at least that was how it seemed to Mark.  
“They are very intelligent animals,” Ty replied whilst the rat let him stroke its back. It was brown with a white belly and almost looked pretty. Mark did not mind rats and he supposed Ty was old enough now to be able to keep a tamed animal. Animals had always been attracted by Ty’s patience and he obviously understood their language in a way that he still found difficult and at times even impossible with humans.   
Mark looked around the Scholomance’s massive library where he could always find his younger brother. Mark tried to call in on Ty at the Scholomance as often as he could. As the oldest brother and with Julian gone, he felt it was his responsibility to make sure Ty was ok – although he wasn’t quite sure how to do it or what that actually meant. Nothing would ever be quite ok again. Maybe Mark, the least able of the Blackthorn siblings to hide emotions, and Ty, the least able to make sense of his emotions, understood that better than the others and that was a sort of comfort in itself.   
“Where’s Kit?” Mark asked. Kit Herondale had accompanied Ty to the Scholomance after Livvy’s death and although he was not and did not intend on becoming a scholar or a Centurion, the Clave had allowed him to stay and undertake as much training as he wanted. Mark was intensely grateful for Kit being with his little brother. In the meantime, the Scholomance had been purged of the known followers of the Cohort but their ideology and beliefs were not going to be eradicated overnight. The Blackthorn family and its involvement with Faerie and some of the darker events of the last few years was still viewed with suspicion. Even without his status as a Blackthorn, Ty would not have fitted in easily. Mark knew that and he knew what it was like to be different. He had known and suffered for it all his life. Kit, on the other hand, was what mundanes called streetwise. He was quite able to defend himself and he was very protective of Ty.  
“Probably training,” was Ty’s rather indifferent answer to Mark’s question which made his brother frown. The rat had disappeared into Ty’s jumper. “You know,” Ty now continued, animated by a puzzle to solve, “I’m almost surprised that the Riders seem to have laid off him since the battle with the Cohort. Even if they knew about his powers, he wouldn’t be a match for them.”  
More than a year ago now in human terms, the Cohort had taken Julian’s bait and sought an ill-fated confrontation with Faerie. Most of Downworld as well as the rest of the Clave had sided with the faeries and there had only been a short-lived but brutal fight which quickly forced the Cohort to admit defeat. As Julian had knocked him out and hauled him away in hot pursuit of Kieran and the Black Volume of the Dead, Mark had not been there to see it. According to Magnus, the Riders of Mannan had used the fight as cover to attempt to snatch and probably kill Kit. They had been loyal to the former Unseelie King and to their mandate to kill all descendants of the First Heir. Now that Kieran had killed his father and his half-brother, Leor, had taken the Unseelie crown, it was unclear who the Riders answered to, however, they had all but disappeared since the assault on Kit. It appeared as if Kit had been able to fend of the Riders’ attack with a sudden outburst of magic which Magnus had been quick to cover up and claim as his own. In the heat of battle, hardly anyone else had noticed and there were only a handful of people who were aware of Kit’s evident faerie heritage and power. Tessa and Jem were very worried for him and Kit had stayed with them on a few occasions. However, everybody agreed that Kit was likely to be safest in the Scholomance.  
“I know both Kieran and Leor are concerned about the Riders and what their plans are,” Mark replied. “Ty…Kit is not some puzzle to solve. He is your…friend.” _Partner? Lover?_ Mark was not sure what the right description was but _friend_ certainly qualified. He was aware that the boys’ relationship had changed since that day – whatever their relationship had been before. The brothers didn’t discuss romantic issues. In his clumsy way, Mark had tried to offer Kit some help or at least someone to talk to but it just ended in awkwardness and with both of them silently agreeing not to speak of the matter again.   
Nevertheless, Mark always checked in on Kit as well and he was looking for him now before he planned to return to the Seelie Court and Kieran. Eventually, he found Kit where he was rarely to be found – in his own room. Kit had just showered after what had clearly been an intense training session. It struck Mark how the boy slowly turned into a younger version of Jace Herondale, not only physically but with the same attitude that hid a more vulnerable core. His movements were uncharacteristically sharp and angry today.  
“How are you?”   
Kit didn’t reply at first and just continued to towel his hair and almost punch his arms into a dark hoodie. Then he glared at the man leaning in the door frame.  
“You mean apart from being treated like a bloody experiment by my boy-friend?”  
Mark was taken aback – both by Kit’s anger as well as his reference to Ty. Kit appeared to check himself immediately and turned away, drawing the hood over his head.  
“What do you mean?” Mark asked carefully.  
Kit did not turn around. Eventually, he sighed. He spoke as if to himself. “Maybe I was only ever imagining it. Maybe Ty doesn’t really care about me that way at all. In any case, he is most interested now in how this magic or whatever it is works. And how I can control it – or rather not control it. How being part faerie affects me.” He suddenly faced Mark: “I don’t feel any bloody different at all! I’m still getting my head around being part of this Shadowhunter cult thing. It’s been almost two fucking years!”  
Mark flinched. “What happened?”  
“What the hell does NOT happen?! I think he would quite happily dissect me if he could do it without fucking killing me. And I would almost let him do it if it just meant that he… that we… He IS bloody killing me!”  
After having hoped that Kit would open up to him a bit more, Mark was completely lost for words now that it happened in this violent outburst. Kit just stood in the middle of the room, lonely and miserable. His voice was quiet when he spoke again:  
“Sorry. It’s just been so fucking hard. I’ll go and stay with Tess and Jem for a while.”  
Mark started to protest when he heard his brother call his name. Ty’s voice, hardly ever showing much inflection, chilled Mark to the bone. In an instant, he as well as Kit had bolted out of the door and were running down the corridor. They found Ty as well as the Head Scholar and director of the Scholomance and a number of Centurions in the main entrance hall of the school. They were tense and agitated. Mark grabbed hold of Ty who had gone entirely rigid.  
“It’s one of them,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “Eochaid, I think.” He flicked his head towards the door.  
Through the heavy doors which were now being opened by two Centurions for the Head to step through, Mark could see the unmistakable figure of one of the Seven Riders of Mannan, a big male faerie all bronze from head to toe. The reason why the door was being opened, was that the Rider had lowered himself onto one knee and bowed his head respectfully, his arms spread out to show that he was carrying no arms. He now slowly stood up straight to face the Head Scholar who bowed his head to return the greeting.  
“I greet you, Eochaid. It is unusual not only to see a legendary Rider of the Seven on his own but also to see him at our doors. This is a place of peace and learning.” Mark had to admire the scholar for sounding firm as well as humble at the same time.   
“I come on my own,” boomed the voice of Eochaid, “to show that I have no desire to disturb the peace of your esteemed house of learning. Nor do we mean any harm to its residents. I wish only to speak with one of them who goes by the name of Herondale.”


	3. The Morning Star

“Get away from him!” the sharp female voice made the Queen jerk around violently. She found herself face to face with Cristina who had a glowing blade in her hand. Seraphine yelled for the guard whilst the Shadowhunter shouted at her. An instant later, the King’s personal bodyguard as well as Nene, Mark’s aunt, had appeared in the chamber. They were all staring at each other, trying to read the situation. The guard was familiar with Cristina and didn’t attack her and before Seraphine could cry for reinforcements, the Shadowhunter had the blade at her throat and hissed: “Stop! Do you want the whole court to see the King like this? What’s going on here?”

The two women had what Cristina often thought of as an uneasy truce. Kieran’s marriage with Seraphine had been engineered by her father, Kieran’s half-brother, Leor. Whilst Leor had taken the Unseelie throne, his daughter by the late Seelie Queen had a legitimate claim to the Seelie throne. Nevertheless, Kieran was better known and more acceptable to the Seelie because he had killed his brutal and much feared father and avenged their Queen. So, it had been a rather ingenious move by Leor to arrange a marriage and thus practically unite Seelie and Unseelie faeries as well as make peace with the Clave. However, it had been clear from the start that there was not much love lost between the new husband and wife.

To Cristina, Seraphine was the quintessential faerie - blindingly lovely and enchantingly attractive like a deadly flame was to a moth at night time, yet at the same time she was cold and inscrutable. She made Cristina very uncomfortable, maybe even more so as Kieran apparently didn’t mind her and was unaffected by her looks and charms. There was an understanding through kinship between the two faeries which reminded Cristina that she was in a relationship with a being from another world. Moreover, it was clear that Seraphine resented Mark and Cristina and she found it hard to tolerate the fact that her husband’s lovers came and went as they pleased thanks to their respective new roles as Faerie and Shadowhunter representatives and with the help of the infinity stone.

There had been talk of the young queen having a liaison with one of Leor’s maids although Cristina had seen no evidence of it and Kieran hadn’t mentioned it again. Even so, Seraphine had no interest in Kieran, whose beauty was somewhat marred by injuries incurred in the fight with his father and Julian. But although she seemed prepared to accept Kieran’s relationship with another man, she clearly hated Cristina’s existence. Over the last year or so, the two women had pushed their boundaries as far as they dared and then they had begrudgingly gotten used to each other and even exchanged one or the other pleasantry. Nonetheless, Cristina continued to be wary of the beautiful faerie.

Cristina’s eyes had drifted nervously to Nene. The woman was crouching at Kieran’s side who remained motionless on the floor. Nene had become the King’s personal healer and Cristina trusted her as she knew that the older faerie had grown rather fond of Kieran and vice versa through their shared love of Mark.

“His heartbeat is strong,” said Nene in English and Cristina could feel the relief rush through her until she met Seraphine’s gaze. She had let her go and the faerie had sheathed her knife but she looked daggers at virtually everyone in the room.

“You better explain yourself!” Cristina demanded harshly of the Queen but it was the wrong thing to say and the faerie regarded her contemptuously.

“How dare you confront me in my own realm! I will not speak with you. Alvan…” she addressed the bodyguard but she did not get any further before more guards poured into the chamber, dragging an only barely resisting figure with them. They stopped dead at the scene in front of them.

“Ash!” Cristina exhaled at the same time as Seraphine cried: “That’s the intruder!” The slender boy with the pale white hair and bright green eyes turned first towards the Queen and then Cristina.

“What have you done to Kieran?” Cristina breathed, fighting against the rising panic inside her chest. When Jaime had hidden the infinity stone in Dru’s room, Mark’s sister seemed to have established some kind of contact with Ash which, according to Helen, was still ongoing. Mark had been furious when they had found out who Ash was. He was intent on confronting the boy but they hadn’t been able to find him again after an accidental encounter. All they had found out was that the Riders of Mannan were after him but that the Riders had grown rather cautious because of Ash’s unusual powers which only intensified Mark’s fears for his little sister.

The boy’s cold stare seemed to soften to something akin regret as he said in a quiet but firm voice: “I did not mean to harm the King.”


	4. The Child

They had taken Ash aside, leaving Nene and a couple of guards with the King, whilst Cristina, Seraphine and Alvan were questioning the boy who was now bound in shackles but still standing defiantly in front of them. Cristina sensed that he remained bound as a sign of goodwill to her, not because any shackles or number of guards in the entire court were ever going to be enough to contain him if he didn’t want them to. She had seen some of his abilities and she had no doubt that his actual power was by now far greater than that of his parents. His slightly sheepish look came as a surprise.

“I…didn’t do anything. At least I didn’t intend to.” The fact that he spoke in the Unseelie tongue was another surprise. Cristina didn’t know whether it was for her benefit. Maybe he was unsure of the human tongues and assumed that she would understand the Unseelie better than the Seelie because of Kieran which was, in fact, not true. However, he spoke slowly and purposely as if willing her to understand. Seraphine could barely conceal her anger and butted in: “Yours is dark magic and has no place at this Court! Why are you here? How did you get into the King’s private quarters?”

The boy smirked and still responded in Unseelie in spite of his obvious understanding and ability to speak Seelie. Cristina got the feeling that he despised the language of his mother. Maybe that was also true for the human language of his father, although the two had never met.

“The King has been aware of my presence at the Court for a long time.” The women couldn’t help but exchange a surprised glance. “I am indebted to the King,” Ash continued, “as by freeing himself from his father, he also freed me and allowed me to return to the court of our mother, the Seelie Queen.” He lazily eyed Seraphine for a reaction which she was clearly fighting to suppress. Apparently, she had not known of Ash’s existence at all.

“The King has allowed me to stay here with the lady who raised me, a lady to the late Queen.” Ash’s demeanour changed and he suddenly looked the young boy that he was in spite of his grown-up appearance. “I came to talk to Kieran about an urgent matter but I did not…handle it very well. The Queen arrived and startled me.” He stared at the floor like a child who has done something wrong and is made to apologise. “I am sorry I…lashed out. I believe the King was trying to protect his Queen and grabbed me. I…” He suddenly looked Cristina straight in the eye: “I don’t know what happened. I could feel magic. I don’t know whether it was his or mine but his spirit suddenly retreated.”

“What…” Cristina could feel her heart beating hard in her ribcage. “What do you mean?”

“I believe it’s something humans call a ‘coma’,” Seraphine commented impatiently before addressing Ash again: “Who are you? What do you want?”

Ash was squirming a little, so Seraphine continued reproachfully but also with an element of glee towards Cristina: “The King was defending me because of recent reports of threats to our lives. I can only assume you are indeed involved.”

Ash had returned his attention to Cristina. “I came to talk to Kieran of a delicate matter. There are indeed threats to the Court and I wanted to warn him.” Cristina could suddenly see his agitation underneath all the bravado. There was something Ash didn’t really want them to know and it had upset him. Cristina’s heart had grown cold. Slowly turning towards the Queen, she dropped her eyes and lowered her head in a respectful gesture. “My Queen,” she said, “the boy is called Ash and he is the son of your mother, the late Seelie Queen. His father was Sebastian Morgenstern. It is true that the late Unseelie King, your grandfather, had kidnapped and was holding Ash at the time when Kieran fought and killed his father. I was not aware that they…were in touch.”

She could not think of a better way of phrasing it. Cristina paused and cautiously glanced at the Queen before turning her attention back to Ash and said as gently as she could: “Ash, we have Kieran’s confidence. You can tell us what you know and we will help you.”

Cristina would have preferred to speak to Ash alone but she had no means of sending Seraphine away. The Queen stared at them with barely disguised irritation, however, she did take the hint and led them to her private quarters where they were fairly sure not to have any prying eyes and ears whilst Alvan was guarding the door.

The three of them sized each other up for a while before Ash finally spoke. He sounded defiant but he had now switched to the royal Seelie language Cristina was more familiar with: “I did not mean Kieran harm!”

Cristina nodded and gave the boy a reassuring smile.

“There is a child. The King is unaware of this but I have been hiding and protecting it since my mother’s death.” His mouth was a thin line now and he swallowed hard. “The child has been taken. I fear that the Riders are responsible.”

“A child?” Cristina felt she might faint. “How…?”

“It is my half-sister. My mother survived the attack by the Shadowhunters long enough for the child to see the light of day. I believe the Riders want to install her as the heir to both Courts and thus gain control.”

Cristina could but stare at Ash. “But…why…?”

“The child has a claim to both thrones. She’s Kieran’s daughter.”


	5. Seraphine

The room turned in on itself and it was as if all sound, smell and sight was momentarily lost. Cristina scarcely managed to catch herself on the wall to avoid her legs giving out under her. She could virtually taste the nausea in her mouth and fought hard not to be sick right there and then in front of the boy whose eyes she felt scrutinising her. Ash must have noticed the effect his words had on her and she could only hope that he would put it down to empathy over a child’s fate which is what she wanted it to be.

“The Seelie Queen and Kieran had a child?” she muttered, struggling to control her voice. Cristina had known that Kieran had briefly allied with the Seelie Queen and become her Consort after he had left them for Faerie, seeking revenge for Adaon’s death. However, in her mind, it had always been nothing but a strategic alliance that suited both parties. She had never imagined that it could have resulted in this. She suddenly felt terribly naïve.

“Yes. I let the world believe that she had died in the Shadowhunters’ attack on her Court.” Ash looked down. The Shadowhunters in question had been Julian and Emma after their parabatai powers had spiralled out of control and Julian’s descent into madness had begun. Nevertheless, the boy’s voice was surprisingly neutral at their mention. “She was badly hurt and I think she made a conscious decision between her own life and that of the child. It might have been the first selfless deed of her life.” He smirked but his eyes betrayed real sadness. Whatever Ash’s feelings for his mother, grief at her loss was part of it. Cristina had recovered enough to realise that she was not the only one fighting her emotions. Whilst Ash was lost in his own memories, even Seraphine seemed to be in a state of shock and had gone very quiet, clasping her hands so hard that her knuckles had turned white.

A knock on the door made the three of them wince and whirl towards Nene who slowly entered the room. She gave a little bow towards Seraphine before addressing Cristina: “Do you think we could call that warlock friend of yours? Although Kieran seems unhurt, he cannot be woken.”

“Magnus? Yes,” Cristina tried to focus and Nene’s question gave her another idea. She turned to Ash and, on an impulse, lay a hand on his shoulder: “Ash, please go with Alvan and wait for us. Magnus will have advice.” Ash looked sceptical and Cristina glanced towards Seraphine for support. The Queen shook herself out of her stupor and nodded towards Alvan. “Please take the boy to the King’s chambers and wait for us.”

After Cristina had sent a fire message to Magnus, she meant to make her excuses to try to contact Mark. Kieran had had some special faerie rings made for the three of them which allowed them to communicate telepathically like Clary had been able to do with Simon when she had stolen the Seelie Queen’s rings years before. Though they did not work everywhere, including the remote and heavily warded Scholomance, and Cristina had not had much contact with Mark for several days.

However, when she looked up, Seraphine had turned away from her. There was something about her posture that made Cristina stop. Finally, the Queen began to talk in a quiet but controlled voice:

“I knew this day would come. But I thought it would be your child rather than my own mother’s that would lay bare the failure of my liaison with the King for everyone to see. Here we stand, strangely united in our shock albeit for different reasons, I suspect.” She half turned to face Cristina and her face was open and almost compassionate in a way that it had never been before. “I feel that we understand each other’s emotions; emotions I have long suppressed and never shared.”

To say that Cristina was surprised, would be a cosmic understatement. The young faerie looked vulnerable and pleading in a way that almost made Cristina take her hand. “My lady…”

But Seraphine shook her head ever so slightly to stop Cristina. “Please. Our situation is impossible yet you have been nothing but respectful to me. I know I have tested you on many occasions which is…which is why I feel I can trust you.” She took Cristina’s hand in both of hers and it struck Cristina how light and soft her touch was. “Let me tell you my story and you may share yours if you wish.” She paused. “I spent my early childhood in the Seelie Court of my mother but she grew tired and wary of me when a courtier foolishly commented how beautiful I was one day going to be. Thereafter, she wanted rid of me and I am not quite sure how my father convinced her to release me to him. I was distraught at first, however, Leor did not live in the Unseelie Court then and I fell in love with his beautiful mansion in our enchanted lands. He allowed me to grow up happy and carefree.” The Queen’s wistful smile faded slowly. “That is until one of his close bodyguards took a fancy to me. I did not invite or welcome it…” There was another pause. “Let’s just say that I became ill and did not understand why. My father understood before me and had the guard killed. However, it was too late.” Cristina could feel the bitterness in the room which had grown very cold and made her shiver. “My father could not allow a bastard child interfere with his plans for me and he had the healers,” Seraphine nearly snorted at that, “’heal’ me. I hardly survived.” The young, achingly beautiful woman looked Cristina straight in the eye: “I will never bear children.”


	6. Cristina

The Seelie Court’s underground tunnels could be claustrophobic and stifling and since spending a considerable amount of time in the Court, Cristina had begun to empathise with Kieran’s feelings towards Shadowhunter Institutes. Neither him nor Mark were very fond of the Court’s largely underground location either and preferred the open sky above them. More than once, Cristina had empathised with the need to get outside – never more so than today. She had felt she was not going to be able to bear it a minute longer when Magnus finally arrived. She was only too happy to let him take charge of the situation. However, faerie magic was different from a warlock’s powers and their best hope was for Magnus to guide Ash to reverse whatever he had inflicted on the King.

Although she felt guilty and Seraphine had looked at her inquiringly, Cristina had left the Queen and Magnus at Kieran’s side. _You tell him_, she had said to Seraphine. The words still rang in Cristina’s ears. She was a coward. Neither had she been able to muster the concentration needed to communicate telepathically with Mark. It took her what felt like an hour before she could reach him and give him the short version of events without mentioning the child.

Her mind kept wandering. She was sure she knew when it had happened. The three of them had not been able to be together as often as they had hoped. The meetings with the Shadowhunter-Downworlder Alliance became a welcome opportunity to see each other, whether it be at an Institute or when either of the Faerie Courts hosted the meeting. There always seemed to be a moment when Cristina caught a glimpse of Mark or Kieran absorbed in the discussions and a little spark went through her at the thought of sharing the night with them. On one such occasion, she found herself alone with Kieran in one of the New York Institute’s rooms whilst Mark was exchanging news with his sister Helen who also often attended the meetings.

Cristina’s relationship with Kieran was different to that with Mark. Maybe unsurprisingly, it always seemed to take a moment for them to reconnect – he was, after all, a King. Moreover, Mark and her spent a lot of time together at her family’s private home in Mexico although he was still avoiding the Institute where Emma was now staying with Cristina and her family. To everybody but Cristina’s surprise, the two never enquired about each other; the memory of Julian was still too painful. Finally, she did not have the shared history with Kieran that allowed the boys to pick up wherever they had left off every time they saw each other.

She remembered the way Kieran had looked at her that time. It was almost as if she could see the wheels in his head turning as he was mulling over the meeting, however, he slowly began to truly see her and the intimidating stare of his bi-coloured eyes softened. His mask lifted and left little but loneliness and longing. Her heart ached for him and she moved to embrace him. He made a little noise like he was surprised once more that she should still want him. He gently took her face in his hands and studied her eyes for a long moment before kissing her ever so gently.

The three of them brought different things to their relationship as much as to their lovemaking. Kieran was usually the one who brought wildness and passion, Mark added playfulness and Cristina tenderness. However, that night had been different; a little like the first night they had shared. He was quiet and vulnerable and let Cristina take control. These moments had become increasingly rare since Kieran had become king and he would hardly ever allow it when the three of them were together. So, it was special to explore and undress each other slowly. Eventually, she pushed him towards the bed until they fetched up against it and he lowered himself onto it, pulling Cristina on top of him. However, she held his arms down over his head as she straddled him and slowly began to roll her hips, drawing a low moan from deep within his body.

In the middle of their intimate embrace, Mark had entered the room. However, instead of saying anything, he just smiled and sat down on the window seat next to the bed, watching them. None of them said a word, instead just looking at each other intently. After a moment, all Mark did was remove his shirt in one languid movement, never taking his eyes of the lovers. Cristina became intensely aware of Kieran inside of her and she gave in to the magic that seemed to roll off him in waves. She felt lifted out of her body and for a moment everything went bright white before she was aware of her surroundings once again. Whether she had been momentarily unconscious, whether she had screamed or even levitated through the air she could not tell but she felt the remnants of faerie magic throughout her whole body. The memory still made her body tingle now. She tried to push the thought away.

It probably took an hour or two before Mark arrived at Court but Cristina found herself unable or unwilling to face him. Somebody else could fill in the details for him. She toyed with the idea of leaving unnoticed but she needed to know that Kieran was going to be alright. So, she did her best to hide in the Queen’s chambers where a displeased Seraphine eventually found her. Magnus and Ash had succeeded in reviving the King who had woken up, thinking that he was still in the middle of a deadly fight and tried to strangle Ash. It explained why Kieran and Mark were on their own when Cristina re-entered the King’s private chambers.

Mark could not look her in the eye and she was rather glad when he left under some pretence to speak to Magnus. Kieran sat on the edge of the bed with a shell-shocked look about him. Cristina didn’t blame him. He seemed barely aware of her presence when he suddenly got up and started pacing the room anxiously. His breathing had become fast and shallow and he looked like he was going to throw up. Eventually, he stopped and put both hands against the wall, bowing his head between his outstretched arms and trying to steady himself. Cristina hesitantly moved to his side and put a hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing gently.

“What’s going on?” Mark demanded, having reappeared in the doorway.

“I don’t know,” Cristina responded, somewhat impassively. “Do faeries get panic attacks? He keeps saying how he is the death of everyone.”

“His mother died in childbirth.” It was a conversation they’d had a long time ago, somewhere lying in the grass, talking about their families. It had just popped into Mark’s mind as in a word-association test. Then he realised what he’d just said and he shot Cristina a quick glance but she had closed herself off like a flower in the rain, all the while she kept rubbing Kieran’s back mechanically.

“Breathe,” she said with the calm but removed tone of a nurse and Kieran seemed to make a conscious effort to obey the order. After a while, he slumped to the floor, leaning his back against the wall whilst his arms rested tensely on his raised knees. He let his head fall back against the wall. His eyes were closed and Mark and Cristina were just standing next to him, looking down at their partner uneasily, lost in their own thoughts.

“I never wanted children! Never wanted another child to have to…” He broke off. “Now knowing that I have a daughter…and I can’t protect her… This is worse than any torture I have ever endured.”

Mark searched Cristina’s face but she avoided his gaze. Then, she suddenly turned on her heels without another word and almost ran out of the room. Kieran looked up, puzzled. He turned to Mark.

“I have the uncomfortable feeling that I have done Cristina a great wrong. But I don’t know what it is.” He sounded exhausted, his tone more mild curiosity than grave concern.

“What – other than fathering a child with another woman?” Mark couldn’t help the sarcastic remark although he felt the sting himself when Kieran flinched. As he turned away and raked his hands through his hair, Kieran watched him suspiciously. The gesture was all too familiar.

“Tell me,” he demanded quietly. Mark let his hands fall down but wouldn’t look at him.

“It’s for her to tell you really…but I guess she won’t. Not now anyway.”

“Tell me what?” Kieran rose awkwardly to his feet, his posture reflecting a feeling of dread.

“She lost your child.”


	7. Kieran

“Lost my child…what do you mean?” Kieran asked faintly. He looked utterly perplexed but if he had looked pale before, his face had now turned ashen.

Mark sighed heavily. How did you explain this to anyone? “Cristina’s parents had to take her to the Silent Brothers a few weeks ago because she was very ill and they didn’t know what was going on. The Brothers told her… They told her that she was pregnant with a faerie child and the magic was killing her. They had to…” The details were neither clear to Mark nor did he want them to be any clearer but now that he had to put the sorry facts into words, he did not know how. “You know…to save her.”

There was no reaction. Then Kieran sank back down to the floor where he sat, silent and still.

“Magic?” he enquired eventually.

“Well, the Brothers said it was magic associated with the royal faerie. So…it must have been yours.” Mark was still unsure how he felt about that part of it. They’d never discussed children, mainly because they didn’t feel they had to. Too much had happened and they were still working out their relationship. Moreover, Cristina was using the rune, wasn’t she? It just transpired that nobody knew whether it worked on anybody but Shadowhunters. It appeared not. But then, he was only half-Shadowhunter himself, wasn’t he?!

“They killed my child?” Kieran whispered almost inaudibly but there was a hint of suspicious anger in his voice.

“Did you hear what I said? They said Cristina would have died before the child would have been able to survive.” It was a shock when Mark had been told by Cristina’s mother – the thought of suddenly losing Cristina as much as the thought of what she must have gone through. However, another source of pain raised its ugly head again. He was jealous - in spite of the fact that he had never given having children much of a thought at all. Maybe it was because he had a big family and having been one of the eldest. There had always been children to look after and it had been difficult and then, when he was taken by the Wild Hunt, he had felt the loss and guilt and it had eaten away at him. And then there had been Kieran, of course, where the thought of children seemed redundant. When Kieran got married, Mark had occasionally wondered whether he would sleep with Seraphine just to produce an heir. They were a royal couple after all, albeit young and near immortal; so maybe there was less pressure than in the human world. Somehow none of that could touch Mark’s relationship with Cristina or Kieran. But then, when he learnt that Cristina had been pregnant - although she hadn’t known herself… Mark had felt excluded. Then he felt ashamed about his selfishness.

“I need to…” Kieran had suddenly sprung to his feet and was running after Cristina before Mark could hold him back.

. . .

“Cristina!”

She held the infinity stone in her hand but she had been too upset to visualise where she was going.

“Cristina,” Kieran approached her slowly and she knew from his expression that Mark had told him. She tried to turn away but Kieran had reached her and seized her hands. His gaze was anguished and he was clearly still reeling from the double-blow he had just been dealt. He had no idea what to say.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She looked at him. Hadn’t Mark explained?!

“I didn’t know.”

“I wish I could have been there.”

“It all happened so fast.”

“Maybe I could have done something.”

“What would you have done?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there would have been something. Maybe I could have saved…” He didn’t finish the sentence.

“You are no healer or Silent Brother. I was dying, Kieran. I doubt you could have done anything.”

“I should have been consulted,” he said stubbornly.

She looked at him incredulously and a deep-rooted anger rose up inside her. “It sounds like you think the Brothers made the wrong decision,” the sarcasm in her words made him flinch but her own pain clouded her sensitivity. The wrong decision to save her life, she thought. A nasty little voice inside of her concluded that he would have rather had her die to try and save what belonged to him. The truth was that she felt robbed, too – robbed not only of a child but also of the decision whether her own life or that of her child was more important. How would she have decided? She didn’t know. However, she didn’t need Kieran strengthening that feeling of doubt and inadequacy. She didn’t know what was worse: the fact that he didn’t deny her statement or that he didn’t say anything at all. He suddenly seemed impenetrable and cruel to her. She yanked her hands out of his and walked away.

. . .

“Ah, the King,” Magnus smiled a crooked smile when Kieran returned only a short while later. Mark recognised the look on Kieran’s face as he stopped and stared. It almost seemed as if he had forgotten that Magnus and Ash were still around. Mark knew when the need to get outside and rage against the world had gotten so intense that Kieran would have fled from the underground tunnels of the Court instantly if at all possible. However, even the King could not just walk out of this situation and away from the boy who had nearly killed him and the man who had come to save him. Consequently, Kieran looked like he was about to explode. Magnus watched him curiously.

“Ok, let me cut to the chase,” Magnus said measuredly. “Today confirmed what I have been thinking for some time. There are suddenly a number of you young people with an increasing, yet untrained ability to use magic. Normally, kings and queens of Faerie grow into their roles and their magical abilities. The late Unseelie King and Seelie Queen had been around for such a long time, of course, that we can’t be entirely sure what their training would have been like but they certainly knew what their powers – and their limitations – were and how to use them. Yet, for obvious reason, all this knowledge got lost with them.” Magnus glanced at Ash before turning back towards Kieran: “I hope you don’t mind me saying that neither you, nor your wife or even your brother, the new Unseelie King, have much experience in these matters. Plus, here’s Ash and…,” Magnus stopped himself before mentioning Kit’s name in front of Ash, “…and it is, frankly, dangerous! Not only for all of you but…for the rest of us, too!”

Magnus and Kieran were studying each other for some time but it was Ash who finally spoke in an urgent tone: “If I can use these so-called abilities to get my sister back, I will do so. We need to…”

Kieran cut him off with an impatient gesture although his eyes were still fixed on Magnus. “You’re right, Magnus. I will reach out to the others but…” Kieran tried in vain to contain his tension and dropped his eyes. “I’m sorry, Magnus. I can’t do this right now.”

He turned to leave, grabbing two heavy wooden lances from the wall and growled towards Mark: “Let’s get out of here!” as he stormed from his chambers.


	8. Mark

It was a new side to Kieran - one he had not needed to deal with in the Wild Hunt as there was never a shortage of fighting and exhaustion...and outdoor space. It appeared as if Kieran was severely lacking that physical release of stress since coming to the Seelie Court. For all his kingly qualities, Mark had begun to wonder whether the formidable rider of the Wild Hunt was made for this life of a King of the Seelie. At times, Kieran’s temper was so foul that they ended up in full-on fights. At first, Mark thought Kieran had tired of him because the violent outbursts were almost exclusively directed at him. Then he realised that Kieran was goading him until Mark would fight with him. It was more deliberate than in the Hunt but the result was usually the same – angry sex. They seemed to have fallen back into a familiar, unhealthy cycle. It was Cristina who suggested that it sounded like a form of self-harm.

Following Cristina’s remark, Mark had suggested to find a secluded spot outside the Court where Kieran and him could engage in sparring matches. In the beginning, he had vaguely hoped that Kieran would enlist some of the guards but none of them dared hit back hard enough at the King and Kieran himself did not want to hurt anyone. It came down to Mark whom he knew and trusted to not inflict or incur severe wounds.

When they reached the clearing, Kieran wasted no time to turn and swing the lance at Mark. They knew each other’s moves and strengths and it soon turned into something of a violent dance with only the blow of wood on wood disturbing the peace. But Kieran was not in control of himself today and Mark was getting concerned about his erratic fighting – both for himself as well as his sparring partner. Suddenly, Kieran raised the lance with both hands and brought it down so hard that it could have split his head if Mark hadn’t managed to hold up his weapon above him and parry the blow. It briefly forced both of them to the ground. Fearing that one of them would end up with serious injuries, Mark gripped his lance whilst Kieran was readjusting his stance and swung it sideways with the force of his full body weight, deliberately slamming it into Kieran’s bad left arm. Kieran let out a howl of pain and let go of the weapon to cradle his arm. For a moment, Mark was afraid that he had done some actual damage as the King dropped to his knees and slowly curled in on himself until his head was close to touching the ground in front of him. He slowly began to rock back and forwards as if in agony.

Mark grabbed both weapons and flung them aside before he let himself drop to the ground next to Kieran.

“Are you done?!” he demanded. He was out of breath and trembling from the intensity of the fighting.

The rocking stopped. Mark noticed the unevenness of the faerie’s breathing and he was surprised at the array of colour chasing through Kieran’s long hair. There was a choked noise and Mark suddenly realised with a start that the faerie was quietly sobbing. In all these years, he had never seen his lover cry. Kieran didn’t cry. Whatever had happened, whatever they had witnessed or endured, there would have been no more than a glint of unshed tears and forcibly controlled emotion. Mark had never heard this disconsolate, wrecked weeping. Grief was all too recognisable to Mark but he didn’t know how to handle it, not for himself and even less when faced with the grief of others.

“I didn’t know it was even possible…” Kieran muttered eventually.

It took Mark a moment but he then assumed that Kieran was talking about Cristina. “Well, apparently the contraception rune doesn’t work for…”

“No,” Kieran interrupted, “that’s not what I mean. I thought…” Kieran straightened up enough to look into Mark’s uncomprehending eyes through a curtain of tangled hair. He gave a juddering sigh. “There are things about royal faerie magic you don’t know. It will probably sound ridiculous to you.” He shook his head slowly.

“Try me.”

“I was led to believe that the royal fey have control over their lineage.”

Mark still looked none the wiser whilst Kieran stared past him, his eyes shining like a dark lake at moonlight. Mark could feel Kieran shivering but gestures of consolation didn’t come easy to him these days. Kieran slowly released his left arm and sat back heavily. His unfocused stare went to his shaking hands, looking at them as if they weren’t a part of his body.

“We are meant to be able to control when and with whom we plant the seed of a child.” Kieran swallowed hard. “Something that has obviously utterly failed me. The Seelie Queen somehow managed to have my child. And Cristina…I hadn’t intended…I knew my control over magic was lacking around both of you but I didn’t think…I wouldn’t have…”

The full extent of Kieran’s misery slowly dawned on Mark. The faerie felt abused by the Seelie Queen in the most shameful way only to then unwittingly have somehow done to Cristina what the Queen had done to him, only worse. He had almost killed the only woman he had ever loved and then caused her to suffer the loss of a child she didn’t even know she was expecting. But that was not all.

“You didn’t!” Mark was disgusted when Kieran told him about his exchange with Cristina earlier. “You basically told her, you’d rather she died!”

“That’s not true!”

“That’s how it would have sounded to her. Sometimes you are the singularly most selfish and thoughtless person I know.”

Kieran looked stricken and angry at the same time. “You don’t have any children. You don’t understand.”

“Until today, neither did you for all you knew. Nor did you ever want them. You said so yourself.”

“I suddenly had two children only to instantly lose both of them…Why is it that mothers have a right to suffer but…? This…” He bit his lip to keep it still. “I feel so helpless!”

“Then say so instead of going on a rampage!”

It was hard to stay angry when Kieran looked so dejected, straggly hair half-covering his face. His hair had grown very long in the last year and reached over his shoulders onto his back. It would have been dangerous to wear hair that long in the Wild Hunt but it now gave Kieran an even more otherworldly, regal look. Mark found himself staring at it often. He started to smooth the tangled, silky mane but Kieran turned his head away when he tried to clear it away from his face.

“How do you not hate me?”

“What for?”

“For sleeping with the Seelie Queen, for…”

“We were broken up then. And I know you never gave her your heart.”

“I didn’t. Regardless, she took something much more valuable than my heart. If not for that, you ought to hate me for nearly killing your beloved.”

“Cristina is your beloved as much as mine. Kieran, you are part of this relationship whether you are married, whether you are King, whether we live together or not! We love each other. If anything, I’m angry about Ash.”

“Ash!?”

“You knew I was looking for him and that I was worried about my sister. You knew exactly where he was, yet you said nothing.”

“I had given Ash my word to help him long before I knew you were looking for him.” Mark understood the strength of faerie promises and why this would settle the matter for Kieran. Even if he didn’t like it, there was nothing he could say.

They sat in silent companionship for a while. It was turning dark and so they finally returned to the Court and were glad to find Kieran’s rooms empty. Kieran started to change out of his dirty and bloodied clothes; at least he tried to but his left hand was numb and uncertain. Mark watched him for some time before stepping closer. He could feel the warmth and tension in the other's body as he gently undid the buttons and helped Kieran out of his shirt. The King stood entirely still and watched Mark’s hands undoing his clothes. Eventually, Mark’s movements halted and the two young men stood opposite each other, merely a few inches apart. They could hear and feel each other’s breath. It was Mark who reached out to slide his hands around Kieran’s neck and let them glide down over his shoulders and naked chest. He could feel Kieran inhale and shiver under his touch.

“How is your arm?” Mark inquired in a low voice.

Kieran seemed lost in the feeling of Mark’s caress but, at last, he mumbled: “It will be fine.”

Tenderly, Mark smoothed Kieran’s tangled hair back over his shoulder and the faerie slowly leaned into the touch but Mark had to put a finger under his chin and lift his head for Kieran to look at him.

“You keep forgetting that we both love you,” he said softly.

Kieran’s eyes were glistening and Mark could see the self-doubt reflected in them. It amazed him every time - Kieran, the King, was the most self-assured person imaginable, yet there was this vulnerable soul hiding underneath. Mark slipped his fingers into the silky blue-black hair whilst slightly tipping his head to brush his lips against Kieran’s. It was the softest, quietest kiss they had probably ever shared and, for once, Kieran stayed still and pliable against him. This was new, too - a Kieran who needed Mark, who let himself be touched with a gentleness that was usually Cristina’s domain. For so long, he had thought that he was the one who depended on Kieran in every way and that the other would have been just fine without him. It felt good to be needed like this.

Their kiss grew deeper as they pushed closer to each other. One hand still buried in dark hair, Mark wrapped his other arm around Kieran to pull him closer. Kieran was clutching his hips and Mark could feel the heat rising in his body and the want becoming stronger. The faerie’s lips were trembling as every painfully tense muscle in his body was gradually beginning to relax under Mark’s touch.

“It’s going to be ok,” he whispered, “we will find the child.”

The kissing stopped for a moment before Kieran breathed a barely audible: “Thank you. Your lie is a comfort.”


	9. Los Angeles

The sky around them was blood red, purple and orange with blue at the edges of Mark’s sight. It was beautiful and he would have been happy, riding Windspear behind Kieran like they had done so many times in the past. But that past was long gone.

They had split up a few days ago for Mark to find Kit and Kieran to talk to his brother Leor. However, troubling news quickly brought them back together again. Kit had disappeared from the Scholomance and neither Ty nor Tessa or Jem had heard from him. Kieran, on the other hand, had seen two of the Riders of Mannan at Leor’s Unseelie Court after he had briefly spoken to the King. He had known right away by Leor’s uncharacteristic behaviour that something was amiss. So, Kieran had hidden nearby only to find Eochaid and Ethna being invited into the Court in what could only mean an arranged meeting with Leor.

At the same time, Nene had confided in Mark that two Riders had sought an audience with Seraphine in their absence. It seemed imprudent to return to either Court. They needed help, so they decided to travel to Los Angeles where they would hopefully find Magnus and Alec, who was still officially head of the Institute although he seemed to happily take a step back nowadays to let Helen and Aline take over and, together with Magnus, focus on the Shadowhunter-Downworlder alliance himself. Helen had also told Mark how Alec was physically missing Jace, his _parabatai_, which was another reason to spend more time in New York.

Dawn had barely begun to show its signs on the horizon when they arrived. As the house was still quiet, they entered through the back door. Kieran waited in the kitchen whilst Mark went to the laundry room to try and find some fresh clothes for them. Not finding anything useful, Mark made his way up to his room. However, when he opened the door, he found his bed occupied. One of the figures raised his head, only to fly out of the bed with an unprintable utterance.

Mark soon recognised Alec who had straightened up and was now quickly grabbing his clothes which were strewn across the floor.

“Mark?! By Raziel, you scared me. I’m so sorry! We didn’t expect you. I mean, it’s not that we normally sleep in your room. It’s just that we hardly ever get any time to ourselves these days, you know, with the boys either coming into our bed in the middle of the night or waking us up at 5 in the morning and last night - the room was empty…” It was clear that Alec was about to die from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!”

Magnus had woken up and was now leaning against the headboard, in no hurry to get up.

“Alec,” he said calmly, then again more firmly when the Shadowhunter didn’t seem to hear: “Alec! Calm down! I’m sure it’s quite clear to Mark what happened here and that he’s not half as embarrassed about it as you are. Right, Mark?”

Mark just stared at them. Magnus now peeled himself out of the bed and casually wrapped a towel around his bare hips.

Magnus grinned at Mark who stood frozen in the doorway. A hug as a greeting seemed inappropriate half-naked as he was, so Magnus took Mark’s face in both hands and kissed him on the lips. “Don’t worry, my friend, we’ll strip the sheets later.” With that, he gestured for Alec to leave and followed him out of the room. “We’ll see you downstairs!”

Mark shook his head at the surprise encounter before finding some of his clothes which had been washed and folded away neatly into the wardrobe. As he made his way downstairs, he heard soft voices in the kitchen which somehow made him approach more slowly. He recognised his sister’s voice which suddenly went quiet. To his surprise, he found Helen and Kieran hugging as he turned around the corner. Kieran quickly turned away towards the window whilst Helen wiped her eyes and came to hug her brother.

“What have you two been talking about?” Mark inquired but Helen just shook her head with a quick glance towards Kieran who still had his back to them. “Tell you later,” she whispered as Aline came down the stairs. The two of them had recently adopted a brother and sister who had been orphaned during the Unseelie attacks on the Nephilim. The girl was four and a handful whilst the younger boy was very clingy and wrapped around Aline’s neck at the moment. Bounding down the stairs past them came Max, shouting: “King Kieran! King Kieran!” He jumped straight into Kieran’s arms who had turned around and was now smiling. Somehow, the little warlock had taken a shine to the faerie from the moment they first met. Kieran’s kaleidoscopic hair seemed to have something to do with that.

Mark was watching his lover. Although Kieran had his emotions back under control, Mark could tell that something had shaken him up. However, as always, he enjoyed Max’s curiosity and it was strange to see how warm and attentive he was towards the little boy. There was no time to dwell on the issue as the kitchen continued to fill up with people. Mark greeted Aline and his new niece and nephew who showed little interest in the guests. However, the girl’s eyes lit up as Magnus came into the room. Helen had told Mark how the warlock sometimes entertained the kids with some little tricks and they absolutely loved him for it.

Unlike his adopted brother, Rafe sat quietly and shyly next to Magnus. He was looking at Mark questioningly and Mark knew who he was looking for.

“Sorry, Rafe,” he said regretfully, “Cristina is in Mexico.”

They all sat down for a slightly chaotic breakfast and Mark realised with a pang how much he had missed this – the warmth of noise and meaningless chatter of a big family. Tavvy had eventually joined them, glued to the screen of an iPad and only reacting to Rafe with any sign of interest. Mark looked around the table and it would have been perfect if it hadn’t been for the family members who were obviously missing. He caught Helen’s eye and knew she felt exactly the same way. He suddenly missed Julian and Livvy with a physical pain in the chest he hadn’t felt for a while. He was also thinking about Ty, now alone in the Scholomance and his eyes settled on Dru who was looking straight at him. Although she still looked like a goth, she had grown into a young woman with her own ideas about life. They had had a big argument about Ash when they had last seen each other which Mark did not wish to repeat.

“Can I talk to you later?” Dru now asked quietly but firmly.

“Yes, of course,” he replied.

“I’ll even help take the kids off your hands for a while whilst you ‘grown-ups’ talk,” she winked with a cheeky grin. Mark returned her smile.

Alec was talking to Kieran and blushed when he caught Mark’s eye. Magnus was watching his husband with Rafe now balanced on his lap and a coffee mug in his hand. He was grinning which only made Alec blush even more. Magnus laughed one of his rare rumbling laughs which drew a puzzled look from Helen when she noticed her brother seemed to be in on the joke.

“I love you!” Magnus told Alec with a warm smile and loud enough for the others to hear. Mark couldn’t help a side-glance towards Kieran who had retreated into himself and seemed to wait for the chaos to be over and for them to be able to discuss the situation. He was picking absently at some fruit and almost jumped when Mark put a hand on his arm. The King’s tension did not escape Magnus and they eventually ushered the kids out of the kitchen to talk.


	10. Mexico

Cristina was still in bed, as she had been for most of the last few days, when she heard voices. She hoped that the noise would just pass and disappear but she had no such luck today. With most of her family staying at the Institute, she had been largely left alone in the Rosales family home on the coast.

She knew before the door opened that Emma and Diego were paying her a visit and if she had had the energy, she would have tried to hide. She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to return anybody’s calls. Thankfully, her mother was distracted with Institute business most of the time and although she missed Mark in particular, she didn’t want him to see her like this and it was no easier to talk to him than Kieran. Her mind did not want to explore how he might be feeling about what had happened and, as always, the thought of him was inextricably linked to Kieran. The King. The thought of him threatened to tie her insides into another tight knot. Maybe she had done him an injustice but his words had been undeniably cruel although the memory was now mostly hidden behind a thin veil and she scarcely even felt the anger anymore. She was fully aware that she was letting things slip and that she was losing control. A deep numbness was casting its shadow over her thoughts. Increasingly, the memory of pain, thoughts of current matters, even basic needs like thirst and hunger - everything had receded into insignificance. All she wanted was to sleep.

Emma came cheerfully barging into her room, throwing herself onto the bed next to her as if it was normal to find your friend alone in bed in the middle of the afternoon.

“Diego and I have come to cheer you up!”

Cristina barely grunted in response.

“Come on, you can’t hide in here forever. Besides, I have news,” Emma had that cheeky, conspiratorial grin on her face that Cristina used to love and that had only recently made a reappearance. However, whatever the news, she was quite sure she didn’t want to hear it.

“Diego and I are getting married.” The lack of any reaction seemed to make Emma more concerned than if she had been angry or upset.

“Cristina… What happened?” she now asked softly. “You know you can tell me anything, don’t you? Whatever those faerie boys have done, I will hang, draw and quarter them if you want me to!”

“It’s not like that…” Cristina mumbled from her position rolled up in the covers.

“Then what is it? We’re getting quite worried about you, you know.”

Cristina looked up at her friend. Emma was radiant and she should have been happy for her. She should be a lot of things. She didn’t care.

She sighed. It was a great effort to say anything but it was clear that she would have to explain eventually. “The reason I was ill, was…” Emma had enquired, of course, when her friend came back from the Silent Brothers but Cristina hadn’t told anyone but Mark. “I was pregnant.” She could feel more than hear Emma’s gasp. “I am not anymore.”

After shocked silence, Emma breathed: “I’m so sorry, Cristina! I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s hard…” Her words were only a whisper before she started to cry.

Emma wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so sorry! Don’t worry. Apparently, it often happens the first time around. You’ll be fine. You’ll see. You’re only 21. You will have plenty of children, I’m sure!”

Suddenly, grief made way to anger again. “How do you know?” Cristina asked more sharply than she had intended. The well-intentioned but meaningless words that lacked any understanding or compassion with the loss Cristina felt roused her ire. No grasp of the pain and trauma she was dealing with and had no idea how to put past her. Not to mention that real and justified fear that this just may be it. She might never have any children at all. One door she had not even thought about stepping through had closed forever. People did not usually get to understand the finality of an event but something profoundly existential and intrinsically human had been taken away from Cristina. But as a Shadowhunter, she was obviously expected to just grin and bear it.

. . .

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

Kieran had left for Mexico and Mark was standing in the Institute garden with Dru. The girl sighed.

“He’s a good person, you know.”

“Who? Ash? You hardly know anything about him. He almost killed Kieran.”

“No, he didn’t! And he didn’t mean to…” Dru sighed again. “Ash is not defined by who his father was. He’s trying to be a good person in spite of all that. Isn’t that what Kieran does? You of all people should understand that!”

_Kieran doesn’t do a very good job half the time_, Mark almost shot back but that would have been disloyal. And unfair. So, he just stared at Dru. When had his little sister grown up to become this tough person? For a moment, Mark saw her objectively for what she was – a little woman who had seen more than her fair share of sorrow and who had somehow come out the other end upright and strong. She had lost the childlike softness of her features and something about her robust figure now made her quite intimidating. Mark looked down and uneasily ran his hand through his hair. He did not like his sister’s association with Sebastian Morgenstern’s son but he realised that was his only argument.

“When did you last see him?”

Dru’s lip twitched a little nervously at that. “Yesterday,” she replied uncertainly.

“Yesterday?! How does he move between here and Faerie? Never mind. I don’t even want to know. Even if you don’t believe that he is dangerous, Dru, the situation is dangerous! Please promise me to stay here!”

Dru was now fiddling with the leaves of a bush she was standing next to but she ploughed on regardless: “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I know the Riders of Mannan have come to the Seelie Court. Ash says they offered to make the Queen the ruler of both Courts but that she refused. They didn’t seem bothered and said they had other candidates. Mark,” Dru looked at him pleadingly, “they are looking for Kit, aren’t they? Or maybe they have already found him. Ty told me he had disappeared. Ash has offered to help me find him. We need to talk to him!”

“You are not going to Faerie!” Helen had suddenly appeared behind them and both younger siblings whirled around. “I’m not losing the only sister I have left!”

“You will have to stop using that line on me some day, you know!” Dru retorted sulkily. Helen and her had become a lot closer and Dru was glad for the mother figure in the house but it didn’t stop her from resenting being told off by a sibling. “Ty, Kit and me are friends. Kit will listen to me. I doubt the rest of you even remember what he looks like.” With that, she stormed off.

Helen looked at Mark despairingly but he looked away. “She might have a point, you know,” he said reluctantly.

“You can’t be serious!”

“We do need to find Kit one way or another. I can believe that Ash has that kind of ability and Kit certainly doesn’t listen to me.”

Helen wanted to protest but Mark could see that she was mulling over the new situation and the possibility that Kit could become a threat to the hard-won peace. Like Mark, she didn’t like her little sister’s involvement in any of this but she could see the bigger picture. Mark was wondering again whether Kieran had told her about the missing child. Things had changed and Mark knew that his sister and his lover had a lot of respect for each other although a certain uneasiness remained.

“What did Kieran…?” he ventured.

Helen sighed, thankful for having her thoughts of impending danger interrupted. “Emma visited not long ago. We finally talked.” Helen took her brother’s hands. “She told me everything about what happened with Julian and…and that it was her who...” Her eyes started to fill with tears as Mark looked at her in horror. “Don’t worry,” she was quick to continue. “I haven’t told anyone and I won’t but it was good to finally understand. For Emma as well. She needed somebody to know. She assumes that you know but… You did know, didn’t you?” Fear suddenly crept into her gaze.

“Yes,” Mark reassured her quickly. “Yes, I did. But…” Did it matter anymore? Would anyone in Faerie challenge the Seelie King if they found out the truth now?

“I felt like I had been punishing Kieran for years for something he didn’t do. So,” she looked Mark straight in the eyes, “I apologised. And I realised that even if Kieran had been the one who killed Julian, I have come to accept that he was beyond saving by that point. I suppose I had forgiven Kieran some time ago and I told him so.”

Mark was lost for words. Helen gave him a little smile: “I don’t think Kieran expected to be forgiven.”

No, Mark thought, Kieran never expected to be forgiven for anything because he had never been shown any mercy in all his life. So, the unexpected compassion from Helen must have come as quite a shock.

Helen observed her brother thoughtfully. “You know, Aline said something to me the other day. She said that forgiving yourself is a survival skill that I’m lacking. I think maybe it is time for you and me to forgive ourselves for not being there for the kids when they were little. It was not something we chose to do.”

. . .

“I’m sorry, Cristina.” It was Diego. Emma had obviously felt for whatever reason that her former boy-friend would be more suitable to talk sense into her.

“I wish people would stop apologising for something that has nothing to do with them,” Cristina muttered grumpily.

“It’s not an apology, Cristina. It’s empathy. You know that. We just hate seeing you like this because we can’t help you. And Emma is embarrassed for having told you our news like this when you obviously have other things to deal with.”

_Here we go again_, Cristina thought. _Damn that Perfect Diego. _His words just made her cry again and in that perfect way that she once loved about him, he just held her quietly and reassuringly.

“I’m very happy for you,” Cristina eventually managed to say and even smiled a little. “I’m happier than you know that you and Emma have found each other and that she’s finally moving on.” She sighed heavily. “I’ll be ok. Eventually.”

. . .

After Diego and Emma had left, Cristina had become restless. So, without realising, they had probably achieved part of their goal. She had gone for a swim in the sea and found herself sitting on the steps leading towards the beach, watching the sunset. The world was still turning and there was still beauty in it, she thought wistfully. The wind had picked up and it was slowly drying her wet hair.

She was shivering now but she welcomed the discomfort which distracted from morbid thoughts. A flash of white and the sound of hooves suddenly broke the trancelike to and fro of the waves and Cristina turned around to find Kieran approaching her warily.

“My lady,” he said softly.

It took very little these days to overwhelm Cristina with emotion and it was the same now. She could feel her eyes fill with tears and she turned away quickly to resume staring across the infinite ocean.

Kieran sat down beside her, close enough that she could feel his warmth but not close enough to touch. “Cristina,” he said, “I came to offer my apologies. My words were ill chosen when we last spoke.” Raw emotion crept into his voice as he continued: “I wish I could undo the pain I have caused you. I…” He swallowed hard. “It is all my fault. I am aggrieved to be the source of your suffering.”

Tears were running down her cheeks and she did not trust herself to speak. Instead she just leaned into him. “None of this is your fault,” she managed eventually. “I just don’t know how to deal with it. I’m sorry you find me so weak.”

He shook his head and gingerly wrapped an arm around her. “You are not weak. We have both lost this child and I want you to know that it hurts me, too. However, I would never choose your death to save…” He fell silent and just drew her closer to him with a ragged sigh.

“I failed you,” she muttered miserably.

“You could never fail me, my love. You are the light of my life. You and Mark are what makes everything worth enduring. Mark is the wind in the trees, the joy and the arm that carries me when I falter. But you are my happiness, the light over the ocean that guides me and anchors me to this world. I love you, Cristina, and nothing will ever change that.”

She smiled despite herself. “How do you find the most beautiful words in the most awful situations?!”

Sensing that he was trying to give an answer, she lifted her head but before she could say anything, he looked back and asked sheepishly: “One of those questions?”

“Rhetorical, yes,” she smiled.


	11. The Ocean

An otherworldly sound woke her up. It took Cristina a moment to remember that she had fallen asleep on the veranda and that Kieran had carried her upstairs half-asleep. Then she remembered what the sound was – a mermaid. Rare as it was, you would never forget the sound. It went through your bones to almost make your insides vibrate with the glass-breaking frequency. What was a mermaid doing off the coast of Mexico? She was suddenly wide awake and rushed onto her little balcony. The moon was still high in the night sky and her eyes slowly caught sight of Kieran at the water’s edge. He was slowly wading into the water, holding himself stiffly in an odd posture, head tipped up to the moon, arms stretched as if he was trying to feel what was underneath the moving surface. Suddenly, he dived smoothly into the surf and was gone.

Cristina clutched the railing in surprise and called his name. Her heart had started to beat uncomfortably hard in her chest whilst she was trying to tell herself that he was just messing around, drawn to the water as he tended to be. However, he didn’t resurface. The water kept rolling against the shore, the occasional wave trying to gather the strength to throw itself against nearby rocks and scatter the white spume. Within minutes, the moon had disappeared and it started to rain hard – unusually so for this time of the year. There was no sign of Kieran at all – or of any mermaids. Had she imagined the sound? What was she to do? Call the coast guards and ask them to search for a Faerie King?! There was nothing she could do other than trust in his nature.

Nevertheless, Cristina ran downstairs and anxiously waited at the water line in the pouring rain. Although it felt like an eternity, she could only guess that it must have been 15 or 20 minutes before Kieran suddenly emerged from the depth of the ocean. In the darkness, Cristina couldn’t make him out clearly but there seemed to be a second figure, dragging him towards the shore. He was usually a very comfortable swimmer but it was clear that he struggled until he reached ground and came half tumbling, half staggering towards her, his blades cutting viciously through the water whilst the mermaid disappeared back into the ocean with another of its ear-shattering shrieks.

Kieran let himself fall to his knees in the shallows, gasping for breath, his hair slick as oil and his face pale as the moon. When Cristina reached him, he was cold as ice and shivering violently although she had a feeling that it was not only due to the temperature of the water. She managed to drag him inside and into the downstairs bathroom. Kieran dropped something he had been clutching under his arm but he was still shaking too badly to be able to undo his clothes. The light fabric was sticking to his body like a second skin and even Cristina struggled to get it off. In the end, she manoeuvred him under the shower and put the hot water on. His breath came in painful gasps and groans, his chest heaving whilst he was steadying himself with one hand on the wall and the other on Cristina’s shoulder. Preoccupied with supporting him, Cristina had only thrown a fleeting glance towards the object that now lay on the bathroom floor. Nevertheless, she recognised the Black Book instantly but pushed the thought aside.

There was no answer to her question about what had happened; instead the King turned to her when he had regained his composure and forcefully pulled her towards him. A surprised yelp escaped her but she managed to stop the shower and avoid another soaking before his lips were on hers and he kissed her fiercely. Unusually, he ignored her initial startled hesitation but - in spite of everything - she had missed him and with his now naked body pressed insistently against hers, resistance was futile. She opened her lips to him and allowed for the welcome tingling sensation to build and flutter through her body. Breathless and lightheaded, she let him undress her and carry her into the lounge which was basked again in moonlight. He gently lowered both of them onto the soft rug in the middle of the room.

Any self-control had apparently been lost deep in the ocean and his hands flew over her body whilst he kissed her deeply and with entirely unleashed passion. Only when he rolled himself on top of her and the weight of his body was pressing her down, did she tense and involuntarily deny him access. He stilled instantly and looked at her with pupils blown wide to both appear almost entirely black. Yet his gaze was sharp and perceptive. He lifted himself up on his elbows.

“What is it?”

“Somebody might walk in on us.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

She should have known that he would not be fooled that easily. “That’s not the reason.” He studied her. “You don’t want me inside of you.” It was an observation - though one tinged with a smidgen of surprise. And hurt.

The wording made her blush.

“Forgive me. I wasn’t thinking.” He lowered his forehead to hers although their bodies were no longer touching. His pulse was still going hard and fast but something was irretrievably lost like a lead balloon sinking to the ground and taking her with it. She did not have the energy to fight it.

For a while, they lay there silently. Kieran had pulled a blanket from the sofa and furtively arranged it in a way that her body would not touch his naked skin. Although she was grateful that he had immediately backtracked, the gesture made her sad and embarrassed that she had given in to the passion only to deny him in the end. Her hand rested lightly on his chest. His heartbeat was back to its slow and steady beat. She wanted to cry.

“What happened?” she asked eventually.

Kieran took his time to answer. “The water folk wanted to talk to me.”

Cristina’s head whirled but she had learned to accept that there were many things she did not understand about the fair folk and that explanations were not always forthcoming or, if they were, they were not necessarily making things much clearer from a human point of view. So, she contented herself with looking up to indicate that she was listening and waiting for more.

“They believe somebody close to me has the girl.” Kieran didn’t say ‘my daughter’ or ‘my child’ and she was wondering whether it was because he thought it might hurt her feelings. “They also believe that the Riders want to seize her because she has a bigger claim to the throne than me. So do that lost Herondale boy…and the Queen; for they all have Unseelie and Seelie blood.”

She chewed on that for a minute. “So you believe Seraphine might have the child?”

His lack of an answer was answer enough. “It appears that the Riders have been approaching both her and Kit Herondale with the intent of making them sole King or Queen of both Faerie Courts and subjugating themselves to their rule.”

“But…”

“Yes. My brother, the Unseelie King, would have to die. As would I.” He sighed. “Kit was with Mark and his brother at the Scholomance when one of the Riders came, so I knew of their intentions towards the Herondale boy. Mark seemed to think that he refused them before he disappeared. In any case, it raised my suspicions about the Queen and it would only be understandable if she was trying to save herself.” As with the child, he didn’t claim Seraphine as ‘my wife’ and hardly ever called her by her name. Cristina had pushed herself up onto her elbow and was staring at him, taken aback by the news. His gaze on her was loving and calm as he gently pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

“I am sorry for my earlier behaviour,” he said quietly. “I was… upset.”

“There is something else.”

She had taken him by surprise. His hand froze mid-air and he looked away. “The fair folk of the water talk to me because I share their blood and they assured me of their loyalty. However, they are angry.”

Just when Cristina wanted to prompt him with a question, he continued:

“All the waters of this world are connected. Water knows no boundaries between worlds and it flows freely. So, it carries with it all the good and the bad that lives in it – natural and unnatural. Nature needs to be respected but all the land-living beings have been violating it.”

His uncanny gaze was fully focused on her again. “Water faeries are part of the natural world more so than any other magical creatures and they will take their revenge and defend their environment.”

The words were chilling although Cristina did not know what exactly they meant and knew better not to ask. Different thoughts were racing through her mind.

“Let me talk to Seraphine, please,” she finally asked.


	12. The fair folk

Mark was startled to find Seraphine in Kieran’s quarters but neither got a chance to say anything before Kieran appeared with the help of the Infinity Stone he had taken from Cristina. To Mark's surprise, Kieran had drawn his sword whilst Seraphine had slipped to the ground to kneel in a submissive gesture. She bowed her head and sounded oddly hoarse when she spoke.

“My King! I have distressing news! The Riders visited…”

“I know!” Kieran snapped impatiently, making Seraphine look up momentarily. The look in her eyes softened Mark’s heart. The faerie’s hands were shaking and she clearly feared Kieran’s reaction.

“I went to see my father, the Unseelie King,” she continued quietly, although her voice was now steady and clear. Nevertheless, her trembling hands gave away her distress and Mark noticed her unusually dishevelled appearance. “He made a deal with the Riders…”

“…to have my child killed and make you High Queen of Faerie,” Kieran completed for her with barely contained anger.

“I believe that was his plan.” Seraphine whispered and looked up haltingly: “Kieran. I’d rather die than rule on the back of a child’s blood. And my father’s blood. And your blood.” She tried to reach out for the King but Kieran drew back. “She’s safe, Kieran! She’s right here.” Seraphine turned towards the bed. Only now did Mark notice the little bundle on the big bedstead, wrapped in several layers of cloth. He felt more than heard a gasp and he wasn’t even sure whether it was his or Kieran’s. The Faerie King did not move. He stood utterly still as if frozen in time.

It was Seraphine who slowly got up, reached for the bundle and held it out to Kieran who was still staring. Speechless. Mark’s senses slowly returned to him; he took Kieran’s sword from his motionless hand. Seraphine held out the child like a present; like something very special she got for her husband, hoping he’d like it. He was just staring at the child with an unreadable expression.

Suddenly, they could hear footsteps. Dru was calling for Mark who looked apologetically at Kieran. The King merely raised an eyebrow at him. Mark shrugged: “I’m sorry. I brought Dru to talk to Ash to find Kit…”

Kieran just turned and took a hold of the Queen and his daughter and disappeared. He had returned – alone – before Dru and Ash even entered the room.

“The Unseelie are approaching the Court with the Riders,” Ash declared urgently. He gave Kieran a quick glance. “Kit is with them,” Dru completed for him.

In that moment, Alvan, Kieran’s chief of security, appeared. “My King,” he said with a respectful nod, “the Seelie are ready to defend their court.” Mark couldn’t tell whether Kieran was surprised or, more likely, had somehow arranged for this from afar. Kieran calmly turned to Mark. He was back in control. “Let’s split up. Ash, take Dru and Mark out the side of the Court to meet Magnus. I will go with Alvan to meet Leor.” 

Ash nodded and set off but Kieran held Mark back. Mark expected him to say something about Kit or Leor, a private warning or even just a quick unspoken exchange of support or expression of love before walking into uncertainty as they had so often done together in the Hunt. He didn’t expect Kieran to falter and self-consciously drop his eyes to the floor.

“I need to ask you a question,” the King stuttered. “Are you…are you still intimate with Cristina?” he asked finally.

Mark was too taken aback for a coherent response. “No.” Mark suddenly blushed, embarrassed. “Not since…you know. Since then. Why…” Mark was searching Kieran’s face. He got another glimpse of the young, vulnerable boy before the faerie straightened up again. He seemed relieved but that was all Mark could glean from the strange exchange before the King turned and followed Alvan.

. . .

Cristina had woken up to find Kieran gone and she soon realised that he had taken the Infinity Stone. As he had come with Windspear, it was clear that he had only taken the stone to prevent her from following which made her furious. However, before she could come up with any kind of plan, the King and Queen appeared in her bedroom. Kieran immediately put his hands out in an appeasing gesture: “Forgive me, Cristina. I only wanted to protect you.” He looked towards Seraphine and it was only now that Cristina noticed the child and took an involuntary step back. “I know I shouldn’t be asking this of you but I don’t know what else to do. Please…”

The little girl, who could only be about a year old and had been very quiet, suddenly made a noise and stretched out a tiny hand from among the blanket folded around her. Cristina could see that she had a full head of very dark hair and especially fine features that seemed to convey an awareness far beyond her age. She was looking at her father and Kieran almost involuntarily held out a finger for the girl to grab with her small hand. The touch seemed to make her hair turn a shade lighter and shimmer in beautiful greens and blues. There was no mistaking that she was Kieran’s daughter and it was equally obvious that she had just literally wrapped him around her little finger.

Kieran turned back towards Cristina and looked at her helplessly, pleadingly. She swallowed hard.

“Of course,” she mumbled. “I will take care of them.”

She could see the relief in the King’s face. He took her hand and brushed his lips against it lightly, bowing and whispering “my lady” in a shaky voice before disappearing again and leaving Cristina with Seraphine still holding the child.

The Shadowhunter finally got a good look at the Queen who looked awful. Her hair was a tangled mess of sweat and dirt only matched by the state of her dress. It was an unusually simple dress by the Queen’s standards, made of soft leather and fur. After a long silence, Cristina cleared her throat, not trusting her voice to hold:

“Does she…does she have a name?”

“Cassia.”

“That’s beautiful.” Cristina was looking for something comforting to do or say. “I can warm up some milk and run you a bath?!”

Seraphine looked at her gratefully. “That would be very kind, thank you.”

The child had been hungry and quickly fell asleep after some milk and crackers which was about the extent of toddler-friendly food Cristina had been able to find in a hurry. Seraphine was now sitting hunched over in the hot bath whilst Cristina was helping her wash the impossibly long and thick, silky hair. When she was younger, Cristina had always wished for a sister to share these kind of simple moments. However, nothing was simple about this situation. Seraphine had been crying silently but Cristina hadn’t dared ask. Plus, her own thoughts were preoccupied by the child in her bed.

“I do not think he believes me,” Seraphine suddenly said in her musical voice which sounded a little stilted when she spoke English. Cristina understood that she was referring to Kieran. “I did not know that my father had kidnapped Cassia. Whatever he had planned to do, he was unable to harm her!” The Queen looked pleadingly at her. “He gave her to me, so that I would save her!” She clutched Cristina’s arm. “I am afraid the Riders will kill him when they find out.” In spite of the tears running down her face, the Queen was so beautiful it almost took Cristina’s breath away. Her dark skin was perfectly smooth, her eyelashes impossibly long and gracefully curved as was her mouth. And those small, long-fingered hands resting on her own underarm were the most lovely hands Cristina had ever seen. She found herself locking eyes with Seraphine and losing herself in their watery depths. She couldn’t help but reach out a hand to touch the Queen’s delicate face and carefully wipe away her tears. The faerie slowly reached to return the touch and made Cristina shiver. _Surely this isn’t real_, she suddenly thought, _there is some kind of enchantment at work_. No living creature could possibly be this beguiling, this irresistibly alluring. Their lips touched and Cristina was lost in the sensation. A spark of pleasure ran through her body and she wanted more, so much more.

There was a sudden splash of water and Cristina jolted back to reality. Bathtub, water, a naked woman touching her... Cristina jerked away and looked into those fathomless dark eyes filled with heart-breaking sorrow for events unfolding in another land.

“Don’t…” she breathed without letting go of Seraphine’s hand. It took great effort to collect her thoughts and speak up in a way that would make the Queen understand without hurting her. Cristina let out a breath and whispered: “I value your friendship more than this.”

She still wasn’t sure whether Seraphine had deliberately tried to enrapture her or whether it had just been a manifestation of her own anguish. Maybe it had been a bit of both as the faerie still looked small and fragile and was now shivering in the bathwater. Cristina grabbed a towel and got the Queen out of the water and dried. After she had wrapped her into a bathrobe and gently combed her hair, Seraphine took Cristina’s hand quietly into her own and simply whispered a thank you before curling up on the bed next to the child, leaving Cristina rooted to the spot for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay. Other things seemed a lot more important but I hope you will enjoy a little distraction at this time. Stay well.


	13. The Riders

Outside the Court, it was absolute mayhem. Not because the Unseelie and Seelie armies were fighting but because a tremendous rainstorm was raging across the land and turning the ground into a swamp.

“Looks like our favourite faerie king has managed to get me involved with another of his half-soaked plans without telling me about the other half – which is really soaked this time…” Magnus growled.

“Kieran doesn’t control the weather,” Mark murmured astonished at the scene in front of him. It was hardly possible to see further than 10 or 20 paces ahead or to distinguish the two faerie armies. Only the Riders of Mannan stood out in their bronze-plated armour which – apart from their size – also made them heavier and sink deeper into the mud than anybody else. They were shouting furiously and trying to hold some kind of line in opposition to the Seelie.

Magnus looked sceptical.

“Where’s Alec?” Mark asked.

“We decided some time ago that only ever one of us would go into a stupid situation like this, so that our kids would at least have one parent left.” The sarcastic smirk left Magnus’ face altogether and he turned serious: “Look, Kieran asked me to portal you back to Los Angeles – at force if need be. I think it would be a good idea if you took your little sister with you. Your lover is on another self-sacrificial mission here.”

The warlock was about to create a portal but Mark grabbed his arms. “But he doesn’t need to be!” Mark quickly filled Magnus in on the fact that Kieran’s daughter was now safe. “So, even more important that we stop him and Leor before this gets out of hand!”

The warlock replied something along the lines of it being a bit late for that whilst trying to work his way up the bank towards where a couple of Riders seemed to stand near another figure. Shortly after, they caught up with Kieran and Alvan. Magnus looked none too pleased at the Seelie King.

“What have you done?” he asked and made a vague gesture around them.

Kieran looked slightly discomfited himself and, to Mark’s surprise, hesitated before responding. “It is not my doing. I couldn’t have changed it.”

“Did you try?” Magnus sounded uncharacteristically annoyed.

Leor had approached and Kieran turned to meet him. Mark noticed Kit not far behind and seemingly gesturing to somebody a bit lower down the hillside. Mark followed his line of sight and knew before he saw that Kit had spotted Dru with Ash. Sudden shouting refocused Mark on Kieran and Leor who had just drawn his sword and lunged forwards. Mark’s heart stopped.

However, rather than stabbing Kieran, Leor thrust his sword at one of the Riders who had somehow managed to put himself in striking position behind Kieran. The Seelie King would not have had time to parry a blow and Magnus was also fractions of a second late to magically shove the two Riders aside. Too late to prevent the second Rider from striking down Leor. Kieran, his own sword in hand, sank to his knees next to his brother.

“Leor…”

The Unseelie King grabbed his brother’s arm. He was clearly badly injured but his voice was firm: “I had counted on your ruthlessness in protecting your child, my brother!”

Kieran was visibly shaken. This was obviously not the outcome he had hoped for. He put his hand on top of his brother’s and bowed his head in a reverential gesture. “Our daughters are safe, my King!”

The news of the Unseelie King’s injury spread like wildfire through the two armies and the tension was at boiling point which the Riders tried to seize upon by putting themselves at the head of the Unseelie and calling for Kieran’s blood.

Somehow, in all the melee, Kit had appeared at Kieran’s side and ripped something from under his cloak which Mark belatedly noticed to be the Black Volume of the Dead. He was rattled. He seemed one step behind everything that was going on right in front of him, unable to step in and help. It was no great consolation that Magnus seemed to feel the same.

Kieran, however, had moved faster and grabbed Kit by the lapel, the tip of his sword at the boy’s throat. The Riders had stopped their shouts and those close enough to see had their eyes trained on the Seelie King and the Lost Herondale. Mark heard Leor mutter something in an ancient faerie tongue which he didn’t understand but it seemed to mean enough to his brother for him not to drive the sword home but to search the blond boy’s eyes and to slowly release him. Kit gave a lopsided grin before focusing on the book in his hands. Kieran reflexively reached out to stop him.

“Don’t!” His voice was a low warning.

Kit’s grin only grew more wicked and his eyes were ablaze with the reckless fire that Magnus was only too familiar with from a Herondale.

“What makes you think that I’m not as strong as you?!” the boy said to the Seelie King. So, Kieran gave a shrug and stepped back. Mark wanted to protest but Magnus drew him away and Kit opened the book.

The world fell silent. Mark was reminded of the Cohort’s confrontation with the fey on the edge of Brocelind Forest the day his brother died. The world had suddenly seemed bereft of sound. The memory made him shiver. However, this time was different. Through the silence cut a voice, clear as crystal, speaking in a strange tongue that nevertheless seemed to make sense at the most elemental level. It was Kit and the words were directed at the Riders who were writhing in fury but helpless to stop what the words were commanding.

Nobody seemed able to move or speak. Nobody but Ash who now moved to Kit’s side and put a hand on his shoulder. The gesture somehow seemed to reinforce the words and intensify their power. Then there was a sudden surge of energy and the sound returned with a deafening crash like a plane breaking through the sound barrier. It threw many to the ground or they instinctively threw themselves down for cover.

When Mark looked up, the Riders were gone and the rain had stopped.

. . .

Kit woke up in the infirmary in Los Angeles. Ty was sitting on the bed next to his, fidgeting.

“What…” Kit had to clear his throat but even then his voice sounded rough to his own ears. “What are you doing here?”

Ty hadn’t noticed that he had woken up and jumped off the bed as if caught red-handed. It tugged at Kit’s heartstrings but he also remembered the last time they had spoken. It was not a happy memory.

“Magnus portalled to get me.” Ty smiled a little apologetically, as if to say – sorry, you’re stuck with me. His hands were working the stress ball Kit had gotten him. “How did you know?”

“Know what?” Kit asked tiredly.

“That you could banish the Riders with the Black Volume of the Dead.”

“It was something you said.”

Ty mulled this over. “I didn’t think you were listening.”

“I was always listening to you,” Kit said very quietly. “You were the one not listening.”

Again, Ty took some time to consider the statement, then replied: “I was listening. But I didn’t know what to say.”

“Because you don’t want me that way?”

“Because…Because I don’t know what it means. It scares me.” Just as Kit was reminded why he felt the way he did about Ty - like so often - the other boy just added a line that was simply like a punch to the guts: “You want too much.”

Kit gave a stuttering sigh. “I can’t do this anymore. I have always been willing to accept anything you would have been willing to give. But I don’t know if you want to give anything at all! You need to at least try to talk to me, Ty.” His head hurt and all he wanted to do was close his eyes again. “Look, I think it’s best if I leave for a while. I need to finally figure out who I am. What these things are that I can do. And I need some help with that.”

“Ok.” It didn’t sound ok. Ty was working the ball more frantically and then seemed to will himself to calm down. He sat down on Kit’s bed and touched his hand. Later, Kit would think that he must have dreamt it but Ty was forcing himself to make eye-contact. “I will try. Please come back to me.”

. . .

Alec and Helen were sitting around the big kitchen table in the Los Angeles Institute with Magnus. It was the middle of the night. The kids were finally in bed, Kit was recovering in the infirmary looked after by Ty and Helen had even grudgingly agreed to let Ash stay with Dru – only because they were clearly both exhausted and ready to keel over.

“We’ve had some bad floods and a sinkhole took out part of the highway,” Alec reported matter-of-factly.

“There have been floods and landslides all over the country. Not as bad as in China though,” Helen added.

The warlock looked shattered. “This is not good,” he muttered.

“So, you think, Kieran somehow did this?” Alec asked again carefully. He knew that Magnus was trying to figure out what had happened but he couldn’t resist prompting his husband, thinking that maybe they had all missed something.

“No,” Magnus said eventually. “But I don’t think it’s just bad weather either. I think it is happening with his consent if nothing else. But I’m also not sure whether he can actually do anything about it.” He poured himself another coffee. “The timing certainly worked in his favour,” he snorted humourlessly.

The three of them sat in silence for a while.

“So what happens now?” Helen asked finally.

“These boys need some training with their magic,” Magnus said more to himself. “First, Ash almost kills the Seelie King, then somehow helps that Herondale lunatic to banish the Riders…” He was shaking his head. But Magnus knew what Helen was really asking. Leor, the Unseelie King, had succumbed to his injuries on the battlefield. The fey had had no great appetite to fight each other, so - after the Riders’ banishment - it had been easy enough for Kieran to diffuse the situation. Nevertheless, Faerie was now a very volatile place. Magnus had portalled the boys and Dru back to Los Angeles but left Mark with Kieran. The warlock sighed.

“If all goes well, both Faerie Courts will be united for the first time in centuries. And Kieran and Seraphine will be High King and Queen of Faerie.”


	14. Unions

“You look lovely!” It was true: Emma looked stunning in a blue vintage dress with her long blond hair cascading over her bare shoulders. “Are you ok?”

Their eyes met in the mirror and Cristina studied Emma’s strange expression. A poet could have written an entire novel about that look and the emotions reflected in it. After a moment, Emma turned to Cristina and took her hands. “I meant to tell you earlier…I hope you don’t mind.” Cristina’s anxiety levels went up another notch. “I invited Kieran. I mean…who knows. He probably won’t come. He’s the King of Faerie after all.” Emma laughed nervously but her look grew increasingly worried when Cristina remained silent.

“You’re right. He probably wouldn’t come.” Cristina tried to smile. She hadn’t seen Kieran in months. The defeat of the Riders of Mannan had plunged Faerie into chaos for some time. Whilst the majority of the fey welcomed the idea of peacefully united Courts, there were powerful factions that tried to derail the process – not least more of the late King Arawn’s sons who saw an opportunity to seize the throne. Seraphine had come into her own by providing a link to Leor’s closest circle and helping to ensure the Seelie’s loyalty. However, it was not until Gwyn ap Nudd brought his weight to bear in favour of his former Hunter that the violent clashes ended.

All of this had kept Cristina away from Faerie and from the men she loved, however, a series of natural catastrophes had proved even more fateful. It had profoundly shaken the fragile foundations of human society. Many in Idris blamed the fey. However, in the end, it was not even the increased number of demons that kept Shadowhunters busy but the simple restoration of infrastructure and preservation of social order which was as much in their own interest as the mundanes’. Under the circumstances, it seemed futile to try and mend, let alone maintain, a personal relationship with the High King of Faerie. The more time went by, the more difficult it became to pick up the pieces. So, Cristina was just grateful when Mark finally returned to her. 

Meanwhile, Emma and Diego had put their wedding on hold – seemingly because of the state of the world. However, Cristina knew it was not the only reason. Emma hadn’t been able to go through with it. The memory of Julian had come back to haunt her. But Diego, perfect that he was, gave her the space she needed which is when Cristina realised that he shared a lot of qualities with Julian. He was a good counterweight to Emma’s impulsiveness, a more cautious but no less excellent fighter. Moreover, he would sacrifice himself to protect those he loved. Eventually, Emma came round and here they were: celebrating their wedding.

No matter how happy Cristina was for them, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness for the easy love and friendship she had shared with Diego as a teenager as well as for the losses that Emma and the Blackthorns had had to endure and her own loss. She had never forgotten the child that had never been born but, even more acutely, she felt the emptiness in her heart when she thought of Kieran even though Mark was with her.

Cristina pulled Emma into a hug and said as much to her friend as to herself: “Come on, let’s enjoy this day!”

Emma and Diego had decided to get married in Mexico and the Rosales family had gladly offered the Institute for the occasion where Emma had been staying for nearly two years now. Although Emma had been back to the Los Angeles Institute to visit the Blackthorns, Cristina knew that it would always be a very painful place for her best friend. Nevertheless, all the Blackthorns had travelled to Mexico for the wedding as had many of their other friends including Magnus and Alec, Clary and Jace and, of course, Emma’s uncle of sorts, Jem Carstairs, and his family. With the sizeable Rosales family, there were nearly a hundred guests despite Emma’s initial protests. Cristina had laughed and told her that she’d better get used to being part of a big Latino family.

After the simple ceremony, everybody had sat down in the big hall for dinner. The newly married couple were flanked by Cristina and Mark. Nobody was surprised at Emma’s choice of maid of honour but Mark himself was probably the most shocked when Diego asked him to be his best man. It was the most selfless and respectful gesture Diego had ever made, Cristina thought. Not only was it a nod to her and the fact that Mark was her partner now but Mark obviously also knew the bride and her family a lot better than his brother Jamie did. However, Mark had almost rejected the request when he realised the main speech would be down to him.

That time had come and Cristina stood next to Mark for moral support although she now feared he might actually faint from nervousness. As it was, Mark gave the most endearing speech about how Emma had always been like another Blackthorn sibling. Then he made everybody laugh when he recounted how he had hated Diego for his perfect hair if not the fact that he was allegedly getting back together with Cristina when they first met although Mark was pretending to be in a relationship with Emma at the time. It sounded like a romantic farce and everybody was laughing. However, it obviously led to the topic of Emma’s _parabatai_, Julian. Nobody dared say his name but everybody who knew him, was thinking about him. The room went silent and Mark, who had visibly relaxed, became tense again. He turned towards Emma.

“I’m sure Julian would be very happy today. After all, that is all he ever wanted: to see you happy!”

Cristina had to swallow hard and she dared not look at Emma. She swiftly gestured for Mark to raise his glass before the whole atmosphere changed.

. . .

Emma and Diego had opened the dancefloor and Cristina was standing next to a pillar, waiting for Mark to return with some drinks. She was watching the dancers and the guests at the table. She was thankful for a moment of respite. After what seemed like months of hardship and misery, she felt hopeful at seeing everybody reunited and enjoying themselves. Helen and Aline were dancing with the children. Magnus was sitting at the table with Rafe whilst obviously trying to prevent Max from causing any further mischief. Tavvy sat with them in proper grumpy-teenager mode. Alec was chatting with Jace and Clary was cooing over Tessa’s daughter. Dru and Ash were dancing and looking very much in love. Cristina was scanning the room for the missing Blackthorn and eventually found Ty on the balcony. She was almost shocked to see him in a rather passionate embrace with Kit which looked like it should be taken to a more private place. Cristina couldn’t help but smile and then almost jumped out of her skin when an arm gently reached around her from behind.

“My lady,” a familiar voice whispered in her ear. “Will you grant me this dance?”

Her heart had leaped into her mouth and all Cristina could do was turn around and stare into two incongruous eyes before throwing her arms around the neck of the man in front of her, regardless of his status. A few wedding guests had started to stare and whisper at the sudden appearance of the High King of Faerie and he certainly looked the part, too. Kieran wore the finest embroidered clothes of linen and silk and a simple silvery headband held his long, black hair in place. More than ever, his faun-like stance due to his blade-like metallic legs only enhanced his striking appearance. But it was not what Cristina saw. She saw the boy embracing another in a car park, desperately holding on to a love which was seemingly lost and, in doing so, igniting the spark of her desire; the faerie prince she had thought dead but who returned a broken man; the man she had helped heal and had fallen in love with.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Mark said like someone who knew that he was not.

Kieran and him kissed in greeting and the three wrapped their arms around each other, forgetting the world around them for a moment.

“Do you mind?” Kieran asked and took Cristina’s hand. Mark shook his head smiling and the other two took to the dancefloor. It was like it had always been with Kieran. The music and movement were their way of communicating. They understood each other perfectly like this. Cristina forgot all her concerns and worries. The sensation of being swirled around weightlessly and losing herself in the rhythm was pure bliss.

Kieran suddenly stopped in front of Emma. He inclined his head and kissed the back of the bride’s hand in a gesture of times gone past.

“Congratulations, Emma Carstairs. Rosales? You make a ravishing bride.”

Emma actually blushed and fell short of a sarcastic remark.

“You have made a fine choice,” Kieran continued and turned to Diego. After a moment’s hesitation, the two hugged. Suddenly, everybody seemed to want a piece of the Faerie King and Cristina fell back, still buzzing from the feeling of the music. She fetched up against another pillar and only realised now that she was panting.

“You look at him like you look at one of those tacos you like.” Mark had appeared next to her with a furtive little smile.

“Like something I want to eat?!”

She blushed when she realised the unintended innuendo and Mark just grinned. “Yes, actually.”

She looked from Mark to Kieran and realised that there was something in the way they walked and held themselves that was similar in their shared faerie manner. The straight posture and powerful yet graceful movements of a dancer, the boney hips and long legs, the heterochromia eyes, the delicate features – it suddenly felt like she had been trying fruitlessly to wean herself off an irresistible drug. In spite of his royal regalia, Kieran still looked skinnier than Mark was now and he had a certain arrogance about him that Mark lacked entirely but she knew it was just a front, his public persona. She wanted him so much it hurt. The thought suddenly sent a hot flare through her belly and almost made her flinch.

Mark was looking at her. “You do miss him!”

“Of course, I do,” she breathed. She looked at him. “Don’t you? I mean…I don’t even know whether you two are still…?”

“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly and it sent another tingle through her body. But his gentle teasing had disappeared. He cupped her face lightly. “You know, he misses you, too. I’m tired of being stuck in the middle. It’s wearing me out. Can we please…reunite? It’s been too long.”

. . .

The celebrations lasted well into the night until the sky slowly turned from dark and starry to a washed-out grey. Kieran had announced at some point that he would find Emma to say goodbye and Mark and Cristina went to their room in the Institute which was on the top floor with a balcony from which one could see the mountains in the distance and the city below.

Suddenly, Kieran entered the room and joined them on the balcony.

“I thought you had left,” Cristina exclaimed.

“Did you want me to leave?”

“No,” Cristina responded emphatically and a little too loudly. It made the heat rise into her cheeks but she sensed her own insecurity reflected back at her.

“Come,” Mark said gently. “I know you’ve both been avoiding each other because of what happened. But there is an easy solution. I’ll show you.”

They followed Mark into the room where he pulled a small wrapper out of his back pocket.

“A condom?!” Cristina asked disbelievingly.

“A what!?” Kieran wondered whilst the other two chattered to make light of the situation.

“Did you never learn about these in Sexual Education for the Young Nephilim?” Mark smirked.

“Well, there was a war on when I was that age. Besides, it seems more useful to men.”

Kieran looked entirely puzzled by their banter. “What is this curious thing?”

“Well,” Mark explained seriously. “It’s an age-old method of contraception.”

“How…What do you do with it?” Kieran was confused, obviously never having seen or needed anything like it.

“You put it over your cock…”

“Oh Jesus, this is getting way too embarrassing,” Cristina groaned. “Come on, give it to me. I’ll show him. It can’t be that difficult, right?!”

Mark chuckled. “I think a key requirement is to be naked.”

Cristina could feel herself blush violently but she turned around to indicate for Mark to undo her zip and help her out of her dress. When she stood in her underwear, she looked at the boys challengingly: “Go on! Your turn!” She reached out her hand and Mark handed over the condom with a shrug.

It was a while since the three of them had been together and Mark felt slightly self-conscious but was determined not to show it when Cristina had so swiftly followed his invitation. He stepped closer to Kieran who seemed a little taken aback by the situation. Mark carefully started to undo the King’s clothes. He pushed the fine doublet off Kieran’s shoulders and unbuttoned the top of the linen tunic he wore underneath. Mark stopped and looked at Kieran questioningly. The King’s gaze had begun to lose its sharp focus but he still looked a bit suspicious. Mark slid his hands under the tunic and slowly pushed it up and over his lover’s head. When he looked at Kieran again, he recognised the glint of desire sparkling in his eyes. Kieran pushed him back against the bed and kissed him. However, Mark quickly turned him around and made him sit down before continuing to undress him.

Kieran looked somewhat horrified. “I’m not sure I’m liking this. I feel a bit like a…” He trailed off when Mark yanked his trousers down in one swift move.

“Guinea pig?” Mark supplied helpfully and grinned at the other boy who sat on the edge of the bed whilst the other two were standing over him.

“You speak in riddles, my friend,” Kieran exclaimed helplessly and he looked so adorably forlorn whilst staring at Cristina unwrapping the condom that Mark just smiled and went to sit next to him.

“Hey,” he said softly, “don’t get distracted. You kind of need to be hard for this.”

“So, how do I do this?” Cristina asked with the concentration of a school-girl trying to solve a maths problem. She kneeled down and Mark gently folded one of her hands around Kieran who hissed in surprise and dug his fingers into the sheets. Nevertheless, the touch had the desired effect, so that Mark could show Cristina how to pinch the top of the condom and roll it down. Kieran had started to breathe as if in pain whilst trying to keep still and watching what Cristina was doing to him. It was all too much when she looked up and saw the impact her ministrations were having all the while pretending that she didn’t notice. Kieran tried so hard not to move that she couldn’t help but tease him further.

“Do you just slide it down like this?” she asked Mark innocently whilst gliding her fingers up and down to ‘check’ her handiwork. Mark caught on quickly and joined in.

“It’s probably best to check once more that it is completely unrolled. Oh, look, this one is actually meant to taste of strawberry…” They kept this up until Kieran unravelled with an unrestrained cry.

“I think we need another condom here,” Cristina giggled.

Mark had come prepared and Cristina finally let go of her anxieties over sleeping with Kieran in fear of falling pregnant again. Tonight, she was not going to think about any of that.

Night was starting to give way to day when they finally fell asleep.

. . .

Something had woken Mark. Cristina was asleep next to him but he sensed the loss of another arm around him. Looking up, he saw Kieran on the balcony and joined him. He slid his arms around him from behind and rested his chin on Kieran’s shoulder. For a while, they just enjoyed the view.

“I want to ask Cristina to marry me,” Mark whispered, careful not to break the peaceful mood.

“I told you to do that a long time ago,” came the equally quiet response.

“So…are you ok with it?”

Kieran took Mark’s hands and turned around. He looked at him earnestly. “I neither wish to object, nor would I have any right to do so.”

Mark hesitated. “Would you be my best man?”

“Like you were for Diego? I don’t think my speech would be any worse than yours,“ Kieran smiled with a twinkle in his eye.

“You were there?”

“Of course. You spoke well,” he now added seriously. “It can’t have been easy.”

Mark hadn’t thought about it with regard to his own feelings and reflected for a moment. “I’m glad I did it. For Emma.”

“I have a request,” Kieran seemed suddenly coy. “Would you allow me to ask Cristina on your behalf?”

Mark was surprised. He hadn’t really thought about how he would do it. Was there a way he wanted it to be? Any particular customs Cristina would expect him to adhere to? The sun was coming up over the horizon and bathing the world in an orange light. It was still cool and there was a fresh breeze coming down from the mountains. He was happy. The two people he loved the most in this world were finally back together with him.

“I would like that very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I had some more chapters but they didn't really work or would have made this much longer than intended. I would love some comments/feedback. Take care of yourselves!


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